


Hollow Point Smile

by Xirayn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Art, Fluffy Ending, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Space Cowboys - Freeform, knife to a gunfight, space ranger partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 14:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xirayn/pseuds/Xirayn
Summary: Lance makes a decent living as a smuggler and hustler after the fall of the Voltron Coalition. Some folks don't like feeling they've been swindled, however, leading to a sharpshooter looking down the wrong end of a gun. Lance will have to talk fast to get out of this one.Inspired by the Magnificent Seven. Written for the Lance Flash Bang with art from@legendarydesvender





	Hollow Point Smile

_Art by[@legendarydesvender](http://legendarydesvender.tumblr.com/)_

* * *

“Put your hands up and turn around,” a gravelly voice said from behind Lance, punctuated by the whine of a laser powering up. “Slowly.”

Lance complied even as he pushed an annoyed huff of breath out of his nose. He should have known better than to let himself get caught out alone, but he had thought his reputation, the guns at his hips, and the sword across his back would have been enough to deter anyone with bad intentions. As Lance saw the face of the alien, however, he realized his reputation was probably what had attracted trouble. He recognized those beady eyes; they had glared at him from beneath plated brows as Lance had collected the winnings from Keith’s last duel.

The duels had been Keith’s idea as a way to make extra money in between smuggling runs. The rules were simple: Keith’s blade against anyone who wanted to challenge him. Lance earned his cut by navigating the social intricacies involved, including dealing with anyone who felt they had been swindled.

“Can I help you?” Lance cast an irritated look at the alien’s gun. He was more than ready to be off this planet with its dry, stale air and washed out colors.

“Actually, you can.” The alien stepped forward, keeping their weapon and eyes trained on Lance as they took his guns. “I want my money back, you cheat. Ain't no knife can beat a gun.”

Amusement pulled at the corner of Lance's lips, accompanied by the start of a chuckle rising in his throat. He had seen Keith take out entire squads of Galra sentries with his knife. Beating a gun in a quick draw was nothing by comparison.

“I'm sure he’d be happy to let you test his skills yourself.”

The alien somehow sneered despite their lack of lips. “I ain't in the habit of letting myself get cheated twice.”

“Seems like a good habit,” Lance responded with a shrug, hands still in the air. 

“Glad to agree. Now, I’ll be taking my money back. With interest.”

Lance weighed his options as he sized up the alien. The easiest thing to do would be to hand the money over. He could tell Keith he had lost it gambling or spent it on something frivolous and just take the lecture. Simply handing over the money would be a sign of weakness, though, and that could be dangerous in his current line of work.

Plus his pride just wouldn't let him do it.

“How about going against me, then?” Lance asked. “Double or nothing.”

The alien’s laugh made the same grating noise of metal scraping against metal. “And let you have your guns? I don't think so, Red Paladin.”

The title pierced Lance’s chest with a pain far sharper than any weapon was capable of. In the back of his mind, he could still hear the Red Lion and feel the pull towards something that didn't exist anymore. It was strongest at night, when the image of Voltron floating dark and lifeless in the void of space haunted his dreams. The only consolation was that the last battle that secured the Coalition's defeat had been devastating enough to reduce Voltron to cosmic dust. At least scattered across the universe, the weapon could never be used again.

“Kind of sad seeing you here,” the alien continued in a deceptively conversational tone, “running around with some Galra half-breed. Is he a reject from those rebels that left the Coalition to die? Do you really think he’s any different from the rest of them?”

“Shut your quiznak,” Lance bit out, voice low and dangerous. He had heard the stories that wrote out the Blade of Marmora’s supposed desertion in black and white, leaving no room for the shades of gray that had actually been involved. Lance didn’t care what they said about the Blade of Marmora, but he loathed what they said about Keith. 

“Did I hit a nerve?”

Lance’s eyes flicked to an outcropping of rocks and he let out a humorless bark of a laugh. “You know what? I don’t need my weapons to beat you.”

One hand stayed in the air while the other went to the strap across his chest. His fingers expertly undid the clasp and the Altean broadsword across his back fell to the sandy soil behind him.

The alien’s gaze turned wary. For a moment they looked Lance over, searching for any bluff or hidden weapon. Finally, they let out a contemptuous huff and the plates running down their back rattled with the movement. “I ain't heard of your species having any natural offensive abilities.”

Lance’s grin was all teeth, nearly predatory for how his focus narrowed onto the target standing before him. “You seem pretty confident in that.”

For a tick, the alien didn’t seem that confident at all as they looked at Lance, possibly realizing they were on a fool’s errand. Their resolve hardened quickly enough, but the blood was already in the water. Lance poised to strike.

“Come on,” he prodded. “You want your money back, don't you?”

“Fine, but we do it for real.” Their plating raised then settled and Lance quickly noted every gap that the brief movement unintentionally exposed. “Might do my reputation good to kill one of the Failures of the Universe.”

“Sounds good to me.” Lance brushed off the insult, he’d heard much worse. He moved one foot back and settled into his stance with his hands hovering where the grips of his guns would be. A voice in the back of his head, maybe the Red Lion, told him he was insane. He would probably agree later, but despite everything, there was still one thing he had faith in. “On your word.”

“Draw.”

  
[ ](https://i.imgur.com/9ew08TL.png)

_Art by[@legendarydesvender](http://legendarydesvender.tumblr.com/)_

Lance aimed a finger right at the alien’s head. He’d mostly given up mercy somewhere between the destruction of Earth and the fall of Voltron. He hadn’t lost his sense of humor, though.

“Pow,” he said to himself and the alien immediately fell with a knife lodged in their back between the plates.

Lance’s gaze instantly softened as Keith stalked toward him, yanking his knife out of the alien’s back as he passed. He was scowling, but Lance couldn’t stop smiling at his partner. 

Somehow, Keith was the one thing Lance had been able to hold onto after the fall of Voltron and the subsequent defeat of the Coalition. They had fled together to the lawless outskirts of the universe where they eked out a living smuggling goods, ironically using Lance's training as a cargo pilot. It wasn't much, but as long as they were together, it was enough.

“You’re going to make us late,” Keith snapped. He stepped into Lance’s face and there was nowhere else Lance would rather he be.

“That’s why I was taking a shortcut.” He slipped his foot beneath his sword and kicked it up, deftly catching the hilt and returning it to its place on his back. Keith rolled his eyes at the maneuver.

“Shiro is meeting us there.”

“And? He’s a patient man.” Lance picked up his guns and returned them to their holsters. He nudged the alien with his foot. “Stop playing dead and get out of here.”

The alien scuttled to their feet, needly teeth bared in a tight sneer. “My planet is gone because of you.”

“So is ours.” Lance shifted his weight and casually rested a hand on one of his guns. The alien was smart enough to take the hint. A part of Lance was still tempted to whiz a shot by their head as he watched them retreat.

“Are you ok?” Any anger or annoyance had drained out of Keith's voice and he was there, open and concerned and solid.

“Yeah.” The tension uncoiled from Lance's muscles as he let out a steady breath, exhaling all of the thoughts he didn't want anymore. They would be back, but as he turned to Keith with an affectionate, lopsided smile he let himself be free for just a moment. “Thanks for having my back.”

The start of a smile pulled at the corner of Keith's mouth. It conjured memories of whispered conversations and moments of respite where nothing mattered except for them. Lance lived for those moments. 

“Always.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am so excited to finally post this. This story was a lot of fun to write and I'm honored to have Sven's art accompanying it. If you somehow haven't seen their work, [go check it out](http://legendarydesvender.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thank you to [GlassAlice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassAlice) and [Shanimalx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shanimalx) for betaing.Extra thanks to GlassAlice for the title.
> 
> Comment if you would like to see more or have questions about the universe this story takes place in and if you like my writing, please [check out my other work](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xirayn) or [find me on Tumblr as @xirayn](https://xirayn.tumblr.com/).


End file.
